alexismroark: chelsie-mae: confessions-ofadancer: 4always7caskett: Maksyl withdrawal so bad ME…

alexismroark:

chelsie-mae:

confessions-ofadancer:

4always7caskett:

Maksyl withdrawal so bad

ME TOO

I feel like a recovering addict.

“Crazy? I was crazy once…”

It all started when I heard that C&M where going to be on DWTS, and I thought, “Why not?” I checked out after Season 1 but still watch the occasional dance on YouTube.

THEN I found out who her partner was going to be…I remember something happening with that guy…oh, he’s also gorgeous…ok.. interesting…did a little research…Holy Oreos, Batman. This is gonna be good…she’s so shy, reserved, maybe a little snobby…oh, yes, gonna be good..

And then they dance and she smiles, and I’m lost.

I watch them. I study them. I freaking cyber stalk them pouring over the web for the various interviews as they tour with SOI.

As a wanna-be writer, I find myself spinning tales in my mind, scenes in my head..the what if’s firmly take root.

I watch them dance. I watch them play. I watch them struggle to stay apart. Acting? Playing it up for the crowd? Who are these people, really?

I watch them off the dance floor, unguarded…who are these people, really? Do they really know the cameras aren’t on? Are my emotions being toyed with for votes? I begin to believe and resent.

I watch them dance and look past the choreography to the body language…and begin to hope again.

Who are these people, really?

Hope, planted in the fertile ground of packages and interviews and the wisdom of experience, takes root and begins to grow….

they dance…and grow…

the looks…and grow…

the body language…and grow

the inflection in their voices…and grow

Hope, blossoms into a believing and knowing so strong it is tantamount to obsession.

I watch them dance and fall a little bit more in love as the weeks pass. I hear the numbers going up but don’t realize the end is drawing near. I am lost.

I come this close to being there in Anaheim (my husband had the tickets in the cart!), but I couldn’t change an appointment. Also, if I can’t have rink side seats, why even bother?

I watch them dance. I applaud. I bribe my friends into calling in. I let laughs and ridicule roll off my back because…I am lost.

I watch them dance. I move heaven and Earth to get back to my hotel room in time to see them dance and win.

Someone forgot the sticker again!

A little over a week after the FINALE, and I’m jonesing for a Maksyl fix and waxing poetic so bad I’m getting on my own nerves.

“Drop a tear. Sanks everybody.”

One more reblog after this. Thanks for your patience and ignoring. 😉

via tumblr http://ift.tt/1j7KcZ8 published on July 05, 2014 at 02:08AM

alexismroark: A poem based on recent events in my life…nothing…

alexismroark:

A poem based on recent events in my life…nothing bad at all. Just need time to reflect…

I C U watching

I C U waiting

I C U hoping

I C U dreaming

I C what U keep hidden

I C what U fear

I C what drives you

I C who U are

I C who U want 2 B

I C who he is

 

I know what I am

U cannot hide from me

Because I C U

Oh, I C U

But it’s ok

I have no ax to grind

I have no agenda to push

I have no desire to out

But I C U

Oh, how I C U

Now…why R U looking

At me?

Reblogging…so sorry. I wrote this at the beginning of that 24-hour period when Lizzie followed me. Ah, good times. I NEVER told A SOUL, btw!! Well, until now. 😉

I thought she “drunk followed” me then I thought she was lurking and picked me to pick on. I wanted her to know I wouldn’t rat her out. More fool me, huh?

via tumblr http://ift.tt/1ovZmWV published on July 05, 2014 at 01:59AM

alexismroark: bride2be: Photographer: Rebecca Lindon |…

alexismroark:

bride2be:

Photographer: Rebecca Lindon | Florist: Marita Wai and Dean Claydon at Veevers Carter

“Gone With the Wind” revisited…in style, baby!

FicFic warning…

She awakened to find a note

And not his head

On the pillow

“Ill be downstairs waiting.”

She smiles as she anticipates

What game will begin their day.

He was always making her laugh

At them

At herself

At everyone else

It was a gift

He was a gift

He was hers

She was his

No, they were not dating

Because each moment was precious

Snatched away from greedy hands

That would seek to dominate

There was not time for the luxury of dating

At least not yet

Perhaps, in time

Quickly rising

Muscles, deliciously achy

And spent

A smile of remembrance

Walking

Silently

Robe flowing

Tied loosely

Revealing

Then hiding

It was the smell

That caused

Her stride to stall

Briefly

It was the sight she beheld

That caused

Her to stop

Mouth open in an “o”

Hand reaching out

To both

Brace

and to touch

The wonder

Flowers white

And leaves of green

Candles aflame

My love unseen

Intertwined within the

Wooden balustrade

Were flowers

And vines

And leaves

Candles atop steps

A path laid out

Another journey begins

To what

To where

Slowly

Silently

Hand to heart

Eyes welling with tears

She descends

And with each steps

Her heart races

More

and

More

and More

She is enchanted, enraptured

enthralled

Words lost

No sound but a hitch

Escapes from lips

Still swollen

From his kiss

She descends

Until the last step

Where does this lead

What more can he do

What more can he give

What more can they make

Together

He is there

When she turns

Slightly to her left

Just beyond the last candle

They are there

“We’ve been waiting.”

He says, a catch in his voice

“We have a question.”

He whispers

Pauses

Looks up

Then down

A sheen of tears

In his eyes

Vulnerable

Achingly so

“Do you both?”

Her smile is tentative

She is warming to the game

“Have a question, that is?”

“Actually, it has already been asked.

We are awaiting your response.”

“Oh. That question.”

Dear God, Oh, God

“I’d like to ask again, actually.

We’ve been practicing-“

“No.”

Her response is but a whisper.

“No?”

The question and hurt evident

As he misunderstands.

“Don’t ask again. The first time was perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes, really? Or yes, yes?”

Smiling broadly

She kneels in front of him

One hand outstretched

Petting his wingman

The other against her heart

Eyes look up and up

So full of love his heart

Feels as if it would burst

Her hands entwined

With his own

“I am sorry I kept you waiting

My love

I did say I was stubborn

Uh, umm.

Yes.

I choose you.

My end and my beginning.”

Another website reblog…sorry!!

via tumblr http://ift.tt/1j7KfnM published on July 05, 2014 at 01:56AM